Prose Critique #16
Resist the urge to explain (R.U.E.)
Welcome to Prose Critique, in which I critique an excerpt for grammar and style. Style is subjective, so my notes won’t resonate with everyone, but I hope that they’ll help writers learn how to focus their writing to convey meaning in the boldest, clearest, most interesting way possible.
In this excerpt, Olivia learns that she has lost her teaching job. The writer uses bold techniques (personification, imagery), which I love to see. My notes focus mostly on cutting phrases that seem to explain what has already been implied by other phrases. This idea is referred to as R.U.E. or “resist the urge to explain” in Browne and King’s popular Self-Editing For Fiction Writers. By cutting these explanatory phrases, we allow ourselves to trust our readers to infer our ideas. I recommend allowing yourself to over-explain in early drafts and then cutting back extraneous phrases in revised drafts.
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Failure followed Olivia as if it were an old friend.
Failure is the type of person who1 has known her ever since she can remember, a distant friend of the family, who has witnessed everything: from when Liv was naked and afraid—an infant taking her first breath,2 to childhood tantrums and teenage antics.
Killing the cactus that was a test to see if she was fit to take care of a pet. Drinking wine for the first time, ignorantly unaware of her own limits,3 and throwing up merlot over her aunt’s beloved cream rug she brought back with her from a trip to Turkey, which of course was a precious keepsake that could never be replaced.4 Not getting5 a good enough score on the exams her brother passed with ease, leading her to go to public, rather than private school.
Olivia remembered them6 all too well, consistently7 reminded of these mistakes by failure, ever-present in her mind and looking over her shoulder.
Failure watched Olivia’s panic attacks in her final years of high school and how these followed her through[out] university. Failure watched the imposter syndrome rise as Liv entered her first teaching job and became Miss Halley, then watched again as she stuttered and stumbled over her words when teaching teenagers their Shakespeare. Failure stood in the corner, watching Liv cry about it at her desk after the final bell rang.
Failure watched her today, the last day of term, [as] her excitement building built alongside the buzz in the air of the last day at school, eager8 for the prospect of summer holidays: leaving the hallowed halls of Harrow Academy behind for six weeks to bask in the sunshine reading old Enid Blyton books and smutty historical romances. She longed for a picnic in Hampstead heath, reading9 under the summer sunshine and enjoying her time in London.
Before she could blink her life changed once more.10
The headteacher’s words kept bouncing around her head as left Harrow Academy and walked toward Wimbledon station. Olivia, I’m sorry to let you know your contract is unable to be renewed for the next academic year.
No job.
No money.
No purpose.
Liv had previously thought the worst thing that could befall her before leaving Harrow Academy before the end of summer was would be for a student leaving to leave a piece of fruit in a corner of her classroom, a banana left to rot. It was far worse than a mouldy banana—she deeply wished there was only a piece of rotting fruit left in her classroom.11 Liv would have rather taken that banana, spots of furry blue scattered throughout, the fruit soft and decayed in her hands—rotten juice seeping between her fingers, she would peel the putrefied skin off the core which had turned brown and almost into liquid; Liv quite honestly would have preferred to eat the decayed banana whole: viscous insides, skin and all, rather than find out she no longer had a job.12
“is the type of person who” Be bold with your conceit! Since you personified “failure” in your opening line, continue to do so directly instead of telling us what “type” of person failure is.
“—an infant taking her first breath,” You start this clause with an em dash and end it with a comma. Consider keeping your punctuation consistent to create parallelism.
“ignorantly unaware of her own limits” You already imply this with “first time” and “throwing up.” Resist the urge to explain. (R.U.E.)
“which of course was a precious keepsake that could never be replaced” You already imply this by telling us it’s “beloved” and from a distant country. R.U.E.
“Not getting” Is there a way to rephrase in the affirmative so that it’s easier to read? “Earning a low score” or “Failing the exam” instead of “Not getting…”?
“them” A more specific word would add clarity. Maybe “these embarrassments”?
“consistently” R.U.E.
“eager” It’s hard to tell whether Olivia or “failure” is eager here.
“reading” I’m not sure, but it looks like you have three items in a list of things Olivia longs for: a picnic, reading, and enjoying. Is there a way to make these three items parallel instead of switching from a noun (picnic) to two gerunds (reading, enjoying)?
“Before she could blink her life changed once more.” You’ve switched from a conceit about failure personified (“failure is watching her”) to “life changed.” Is there a way to stick with the conceit? It would be great to see it lead up to an ironic twist so that the conceit can come to a close. For example, Olivia might feel like failure is no longer “a friend” because she is now succeeding in her career—until she finds out she’s fired. Or something that rounds out the personification of failure?
I don’t know that you need both clauses here. They seem to say the same thing.
Lots of great imagery throughout this paragraph! But isn’t is true that most people would rather eat a rotten banana than lose all their income? Therefore, this very long description doesn’t feel like it accomplishes as much as it could. A shorter description might be more effective and, as a result, invite more sympathy.
Love the repetition of 'Failure' especially when she belts us with it as first word of new paragraph (twice). ("Forlorn! the very word is like a bell", Keats) The banana: Id have it as an actual rather than imagined banana, she finds the rotten fruit her fingers sink into it while clearing out the desk aargg this is awful and THEN is hit by (what's far worse) losing the job.